


Something Went Bump in the Night

by Kalikuks



Series: BLM Gift Fics [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Demon Hanzo Shimada, Gift Fic, M/M, Magic, Oni Hanzo Shimada, Rancher Jesse McCree, Serious Injuries, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25855945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalikuks/pseuds/Kalikuks
Summary: One stormy night, Jesse realizes he's not as alone in the old ranch house as he had thought...
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Series: BLM Gift Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768798
Comments: 5
Kudos: 141





	Something Went Bump in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> In order to help the incredibly important #BlackLivesMatter movement, I'm incentivizing people to make donations to aid the protestors. In exchange for proof of donation sent to my Twitter DMs with a recent timestamp, I'll write you a ficlet of 500-1000 words with your prompt/pairing of choice (If I can contain myself. I tend to get Wordy). Any amount of donation counts.
> 
> If you too want to donate and help, please follow the links in the author note following the ficlet. 
> 
> This one is for Birdiestash on Twitter, who wanted some injured Demon Hanzo getting some help from Jesse, and he ends up staying for longer than intended because he catches The Feelings

There’s a muffled thud from somewhere else in the lonely ranch house, and it is enough of a noise that Jesse’s eyes fly open in the middle of the night. He knows it is more than the old shutters come loose because when the wind starts to howl outside the shutters make no noise at all. They can’t, he’d battened down the hatches for the storm they said was coming his way earlier. And now that the storm is here it seems like Jesse’s not the only one taking refuge from the wind and rain in the lonely little ranch house. 

He keeps his Ma’s revolver in the bedside table, right where she kept it before she passed not too long ago, leaving the ranch to Jesse. Now Jesse takes up another piece of his inheritance and creeps out into the dark halls, lighting flashing as the rain batters the windows. The entire structure seems to shake with the thunder as it rolls overhead. This house has seen its fair share of storms though, Jesse knows it will last through this one too.

Lightning lights the hallway in intermittent flashes, helping Jesse find his way in the dark. The noises come now and again, a creak here or a bang there between rumbles of thunder and the shriek of the wind. It sounds like someone is looking for something in the dark of Jesse’s home. Jesse’s grip tightens on the revolver as he slowly descends the narrow staircase, nights sneaking down to nab one of his Momma’s freshly made cookies before supper or just out during his teen years giving him knowledge of which stairs creak. 

He makes it to the bottom of the stairs without any issue. Jesse’s uninvited guest, however, if that is indeed the source of the noises, is much louder. Those thuds and shuffling have evolved into a dim light that’s coming from the kitchen and the clinks of bottles and the crinkle of packets. Jesse screws up his face in both confusion and anger. 

This bold bastard is raiding his  _ fridge _ .

Jesse strides with more purpose towards the kitchen. He slips on something on the way. Jesse manages to catch himself as quietly as possible on the wall, and he looks down to see what exactly he slipped on. The next flash of lightning reveals a streak of red against the worn wooden floor. Jesse’s stomach drops. 

Was someone caught out in the storm and got into a bad wreck somewhere? Shock can make people do weird things, and Jesse wouldn’t put it past anyone to stumble into the nearest house for help unannounced. Maybe they’re raiding his fridge for something to help replenish the blood lost in their state of shock. They’re definitely not thinking straight, and from the amount of blood on the floor, they are in dire need of help

Jesse lowers his Ma’s revolver and carefully makes his way into the kitchen, wary of slipping on any more blood. The fridge is still ajar, and Jesse can now hear heavy breathing underneath the rain pelting the tin roof and the thunder. Jesse cautiously inches toward the sliver of light, the line of illumination in the dark outlining a slumped form. They don’t seem to be moving from what Jesse can tell. 

Panicked, Jesse fumbles for the light switch and flicks the light on. The action causes his uninvited guest to stir, and they actually  _ hiss _ at Jesse. He startles both at the noise and the sight in front of him. There’s blood all over the kitchen floor, dragged in from the entry at Jesse’s back and slowly pooling underneath his uninvited guest. Who is not human at all. 

Curled in on themselves is someone Jesse’s never seen before. They’ve got blue-grey skin, glowing white eyes, and two little nub horns on their forehead half-hidden by a wild mane of ink-black hair that’s shaved at the sides. As Jesse just continues to stare as he processes, they weakly flick their tail between their legs and slump back down against the kitchen tiles. There’s resignation in their dim gaze. 

Jesse decides then and there that he might not have any idea what or who this person is, but he’s sure as hell not going to let them die here. Slowly, and in full view of the person on his kitchen floor, he pointedly sets the revolver on the counter and approaches them. They naturally try to pull from him in their weakened state, but Jesse hushes them gently. When he moves to gently roll them to assess their injuries, they go where Jesse rolls them, too weak to fight Jesse.

“I’m Jesse,” he starts, both to keep himself calm and his patient calm as he assesses the deep slashes to their side, “You got a name, stranger?”

The stranger seems hesitant before they lowly speak in a voice that rolls over Jesse like the thunder overhead, “...Hanzo.”

“It’s nice to meet ya, Hanzo,” Jesse says gently as he grabs a dish towel to use to apply pressure to the wound, “I jus’ wish it were on better terms. What did this to you?”

Hanzo hisses at the pressure for a second, baring their teeth at the pain. Jesse doesn’t think he’s going to get an answer when they speak after a moment.

“There is a werewolf prowling the edges of your pastures,” Hanzo grits out, “I did not know. I ran across her territory, and she did not take the intrusion kindly.”

“Ah, that’s my neighbour, Ol’ Geraldine,” Jesse grimaces in sympathy, “Yeah, she’d take a chunk outta ya for crossin’ into her acreage, she’s  _ real _ territorial over her cattle. Hungry an’ angry lots of the time in that state too. My Momma hadta set up wards to keep ‘er out of our fields so she don’t eat the horses. She makes a mean pie though. I didn’t even remember the full moon was tonight because o’ the storm warnin’.”

Jesse’s rambling as he leaves Hanzo’s side briefly to search through the kitchen cupboards, certain his Momma’s ingredients are still around. He finds what he needs, along with her mortar and pestle. Hanzo eyes him warily as he works the dried plant matter into fine dust and then goes about making it into a herbal, faintly magical paste. 

“I ain’t got the gift like my Momma did,” Jesse begins as he inches closer to Hanzo with the medicine, “But I know howta make this at least. It should help close up the wound by sendin’ your natural healin’ into overdrive. I assume that’s why you’ve even made it this far after Ol’ Geraldine got ya good. I’ll give ya fair warnin’ too, I might haveta make you wear oven mitts because it itches like the devil,” Jesse says, eyeing Hanzo’s razor-sharp claws pointedly. 

Hanzo acquiesces to both the paste and the oven mitts, giving Jesse permission to remove his sullied clothing and apply the paste. Hanzo glares at the cheery apple patterned oven mitts the entire time Jesse works, silent except for the occasional pained grunt. 

Jesse sets Hanzo up on the couch with some borrowed clothes for now while the paste works its magic, the fella was too weak to make it elsewhere. His breathing has evened out considerably though, and Jesse can hear faint snoring coming from the living room as he tidies up the kitchen and the hallway of the blood trail and the half eaten leftovers Hanzo had gotten into. The storm outside has quieted, and Jesse steps out onto the porch to smoke and watch the rest of the rainstorm as it passes after the cleaning is done. 

A wolf howls out in the forest bordering his ranch, and Jesse blows the smoke out of his nose in a sigh. Now that his new friend is not on death’s door, he’s not entirely sure what to do next. Wounds that deep will need lots of healing even after the paste helps close them. Jesse’s not keen to send anyone on their way so soon after such an injury either. 

Well, it seems that for now at least, the lonely little ranch house won’t be so lonely for a few days. 

It’s too close to dawn for Jesse to go back to sleep, and Jesse needs to check the horses after last night’s excitement anyway. Hanzo could have accidentally broken the wards keeping Ol’ Geraldine out of his ranch, and the last thing Jesse needs are dead horses. He leaves the house quietly and sloshes through the puddles and mud towards the barn, thankful that the door is still intact. When he enters he’s met with some nervous whickers and slowly the heads of the small handful of horses he keeps poke out from their stalls to watch Jesse work. 

Jesse moves through the barn quickly, changing water and feed and offering a few softly cooed words of comfort and reassurance to the spooked horses. He’ll take one of them out later to check on the wards and fence in case it was damaged when Hanzo ran from Ol’ Geraldine. That can wait now that Jesse’s assured that none of his horses had fallen victim to the old werewolf’s claws. He needs to check on Hanzo and make some breakfast. 

It’s a routine that Jesse develops over the next few days as Hanzo recovers. Check the horses, check on Hanzo, make breakfast. His reluctant roommate at least gets more talkative over the time they spend together. Jesse learns Hanzo is an Oni, though how and why he is here in the middle of nowhere he’s not too keen to share. Jesse manages to fill whatever silence Hanzo leaves with his secrecy by telling the Oni stories about his Mothers and the ranch. Hanzo seems to enjoy them, his face becomes less harsh and soft as Jesse shares the tales.

It gets to be so normal that when Hanzo is fully healed it takes Jesse by surprise. He waits for the inevitable parting, for Hanzo to disappear as mysteriously as he had arrived. But he doesn’t. Hanzo stays, quietly observes and learns from Jesse. How to tend to the horses and other chores around the ranch. That soft expression has been slowly becoming more frequent on Hanzo’s face. Jesse thinks it suits him. Jesse wants to ask why he stays, but he’s also afraid it will scare Hanzo off. 

He’s not entirely sure why it matters so much to him that Hanzo does stay. 

Perhaps, just perhaps, it’s because the ranch finally doesn’t feel so lonely anymore. The thought occurs to Jesse one morning when he wakes to go about his chores and finds Hanzo in the barn speaking with the old mare in the furthest stall. He’s whispering to her and gently rubbing her nose before he stuffs a hand into his pockets and pulls forth some sugar cubes stolen from Jesse’s pantry. Jesse melts at the sight, and at the grin that appears on Hanzo’s face when the mare starts nibbling the cubes out of his palm. 

That’s when Hanzo notices him there, but that smile does not fade, even when Jesse approaches him. He leans on the door of the stall and watches as Hanzo continues to spoil the old mare with scritches. They both remain there for a few minutes in comfortable silence until Hanzo turns from the mare to face Jesse.

“I apologize for sneaking her treats, but I find myself wanting to spoil your animals,” Hanzo begins, huffing in amusement when the mare starts nosing at his jacket for more hidden treats, “Perhaps I have spoiled this one a little too much.”

“Old Meg is just like that around anyone who’ll give her the time o’ day,” Jesse replies easily, giving Hanzo a warm smile, “I think she likes you though.”

“I am glad,” Hanzo replies. His gaze lowers when he continues, “As I am glad for the continued kindness that you are showing me. I do not mean to intrude so much upon you but,” Hanzo lifts his head and looks at Jesse again, “I have enjoyed what time you’ve allowed me to spend with you.”

“Well, it ain’t like you’re the only one who’s been enjoyin’ the time we’ve been together,” Jesse points out with a crooked smile, “I daresay you’ve grown on me. So, uh.” Jesse scuffs the barn floor with his boot, “Don’t think you gotta go runnin’ off. If you need a place, I got one here for ya. You could even help take care of Old Meg.”

That soft look has returned to Hanzo’s face, those glowing white eyes full of something warm and gentle even when he quietly replies, “You can’t possibly offer this to me so easily. You barely know me. I’m an Oni. I could kill you.”

“Well, ya haven’t, so I must be doin’ somethin’ alright by you.” Jesse shrugs casually, adding soon after, “‘Sides, I’d like to know ya, but that’s only if you’d be alright with bein’ known.”

Hanzo is silent for some time, in quiet contemplation as he strokes from Old Meg’s forehead to her nose and back in slow passes while he regards Jesse. Eventually, he nods slowly. 

“If you offer me a place so freely, I would be a fool and rude to decline,” Hanzo says, voice low, “and I would like for us to become known to each other.” Those pretty eyes lift to look at Jesse again, and Jesse’s heart does a little flip.

Something warm and giddy settles in Jesse’s chest, and it shows on his face as he steps up next to Hanzo to give Old Meg his share of scratches. From out of the corner of his eye, he can see that Hanzo’s got the same warmth on his face, there if you know how to look for it. 

Jesse’s looking forward to getting to know Hanzo better and sharing the lonely little ranch house with him.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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